The three Huya brothers who had spoken so generously of death suddenly fell silent.
No one wanted to die.
Especially when there was still a chance to live.
If Samwell had declared that he would kill all three of them, they would surely have flared up with righteous passion and faced death calmly.
But when Samwell said he would kill only one of them and spare the other two, everything changed.
The three warriors were no longer brave. All of them lowered their heads and said nothing.
"Heh, three warriors, have you decided yet?" Samwell urged.
Still, none of them spoke.
Samwell curled his lips in disdain and said again,
"Alright then. Who was the first to propose attacking the pioneering team? Let him take responsibility."
An awkward silence followed.
"What? Three brave warriors—don't you even dare admit the truth?" Samwell threatened coldly. "If you don't speak, I'll pick someone at random and kill him."
"It… it was Cheeman who proposed it first."
At last, the second brother, Qimu, spoke in a low voice.
The corner of Samwell's mouth lifted slightly. "Who is Cheeman?"
Before anyone answered, he had already found him.
Because that man was glaring furiously at his elder brother and shouted,
"Qimu! Is that why you want me to die?"
Qimu avoided his younger brother's gaze and stammered,
"It really was the first plan you mentioned…"
"Wasn't this plan agreed upon by all three of us?" Cheeman roared. "Why should I bear it alone? Death is just death. If we're going to die, we die together! What is there to be afraid of?"
Samwell spoke leisurely from the side, "Cheeman, you're mistaken. How could all of you die? Someone has to leave blood behind for the family. Alright then—so it's decided? Cheeman dies. Cheka, you're the eldest brother. Say something."
Cheeman immediately turned to his eldest brother, only to see Cheka lowering his head, silent.
Cheeman gave a bitter smile and asked,
"Big brother… do you want me to die too?"
Cheka remained silent.
"Silence is tacit consent," Samwell said as he drew his longsword and walked behind Cheeman. "Since your two elder brothers say you should die, then they will kill you."
Cheeman completely ignored the longsword approaching from behind. He continued to stare at his two elder brothers, eyes wide, as if trying to see their true faces clearly.
Shua!
The longsword slashed down.
Yet Cheeman did not feel the pain he expected. Instead, he felt his wrists suddenly loosen.
He turned around, stunned, and discovered that what Samwell had cut was not him—but the rope binding his hands.
Under Cheeman's blank stare, Samwell smiled and said,
"Oh. I've changed my mind. Of the three of you, only one will live."
After speaking, he tossed the longsword onto the ground in front of the three brothers.
At the beginning, if Samwell had done this, it would have only humiliated himself. The three brothers would never have been provoked into killing one another so easily.
But now, everything was different.
The moment the longsword hit the ground, the second brother, Qimu, lunged for it first.
Betrayal was like cheating—there were only zero times, or countless times.
Unfortunately for him, his hands and feet were still bound. He could barely move. How could he possibly compete with Cheeman, who had already been freed?
"Brother—little brother—listen to me!" Qimu forced out the most friendly smile he could as the longsword pointed at his heart, desperately trying to awaken some shred of brotherhood. "I was only stating the facts just now. Who do you really want dead? It was that damned nobleman who killed you! This was all his trap—can't you see it? He forced me, he forced me—ah!"
The longsword pierced straight through his heart.
Qimu finally died at the hands of his younger brother.
Samwell clapped his hands, as if applauding a performance—mocking, yet satisfied. He pointed at Cheka and said,
"One more."
Cheeman pulled the longsword free and walked up to his eldest brother. His voice was hoarse, as though it came from the depths of hell.
"Brother. Look at me."
Cheka still kept his head lowered.
"Look at me!" Cheeman hissed like a wounded beast.
Only then did Cheka raise his head—but his gaze fell on Samwell, who stood nearby.
Samwell met his eyes without flinching.
"You are a devil!" Cheka gritted his teeth.
Samwell smiled faintly and replied, "The devil was always hidden in your heart. I merely helped it come out. Tiger-Fang warriors, brotherhood, loyalty—haha. Turns out they were all lies that fall apart at a touch. You people always say we nobles are hypocrites, yet you conveniently ignore your own hypocrisy."
"Look at me!" Cheeman shouted again, unwilling to give up.
Cheka finally turned his head to face his younger brother, guilt filling his eyes.
"Just now," Cheeman asked, staring straight into him, "did you want me to die too?"
Cheka did not answer. Instead, he spoke earnestly,
"Brother, kill me and run as far as you can. Don't think about avenging us. He is a devil who plays with people's hearts. You will never defeat him."
Cheeman clenched his teeth. "What right do you have to tell me what to do?"
Cheka sighed, said nothing more, lifted his head, closed his eyes, and waited for death.
Cheeman's expression shifted several times—hesitation, sorrow, resentment…
In the end, he aimed at his elder brother's heart and thrust the sword forward.
Chi!
Hot blood sprayed out, splashing all over Cheeman.
He staggered backward several steps, then stood still, as if turned into a stone statue.
Samwell's voice rang out once more.
"Very good. I keep my promises. You are free now. Go back and tell your father that I am not someone who delights in killing. I would much rather you surrender than be destroyed. If he is willing to submit, let him come and see me. I will accept all the savages of the Huya tribe as my subjects. If he refuses—hehe—then the Huya tribe had better have enough warriors to withstand our swords."
Cheeman stood there blankly, as if he hadn't heard a word.
"What? Afraid to go back to the tribe?" Samwell continued lightly. "Don't worry. As long as you are no longer my enemy, I won't tell anyone about your fratricide."
Cheeman finally raised his head.
At this moment, his face was covered in blood, his expression ferocious.
Though his appearance was unchanged, his temperament was as if he had become a completely different person.
"My lord," Cheeman said hoarsely, "I'm afraid it will be difficult for you to obtain my father's surrender."
"Oh?" Samwell frowned slightly, surprised. "Why? Could it be that the Huya tribe truly still has enough warriors?"
Cheeman shook his head. "No. The tribe's warriors are either dead on the battlefield or already your captives. The rest are likely terrified. Even so, my father will never surrender to you—because that would be a dead end."
"A dead end?"
"Yes. The Riverbend nobles would definitely kill him."
A guess formed in Samwell's mind. "Could it be that your father once harmed a noble of the Riverbend?"
"Yes. When my father was young, he went out plundering and once killed a member of House Hightower."
Samwell suddenly understood.
With the influence of House Hightower in the Riverbend, it would indeed be difficult for him to protect the Huya tribe's chieftain.
"Then why tell me this?" Samwell asked, looking at the savage before him with interest.
"Because I want to tell you that my father will not surrender to you," Cheeman said, "but I will."
As soon as he finished speaking, Cheeman suddenly dropped to his knees with a heavy thud. He crawled to Samwell's feet, pressed his forehead firmly against them, and declared loudly,
"Noble and great knight, Cheeman hereby swears his allegiance to you! I am willing to become the sharp blade in your hand and cut down all obstacles in your path! I ask heaven and earth to bear witness—if I ever violate this oath, may I die drenched in my own blood!"
Samwell looked down at the kneeling savage, a playful glint in his eyes. After a moment of thought, he said,
"I accept your allegiance."
...
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Here are a few fan-fic titles that I've recently uploaded on my Patreon:
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(End Chapter)